


With Arms Unfolding

by ChasetheWindTouchtheSky



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Amnesia fic, F/M, I mean, basically lindsey makes up science fiction that makes no sense, because nerds who can't say their feelings get long fics, but you know, i don't make the rules, it's a lot lighter than what I usually do, think of this as a canon story that's secretly a modern slow burn, we all make up shit these days
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-12 05:18:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20558882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasetheWindTouchtheSky/pseuds/ChasetheWindTouchtheSky
Summary: The conflict at Sanctum ended the way Bellamy always wishes it wouldn’t. With a war, with bloodshed, and with another thrown government. He held Monty’s words close to his chest, but when he saw his people falling, he had to unlatch his hands and let go.Russell makes a last move, not to save Sanctum, his people, or himself: for revenge. Bellamy watches as he loses the person he fought so hard to get back, just an arm’s reach away. Like that, he loses her.Then, they all lose everything.~~~Post Season 6 AU, where Clarke falls into the Anomaly, causing everyone to lose their memories and finally do what they all wanted: start over. Maybe Tabula Rasas do exist. And maybe the exist to finally set the world right.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi loves! I know it’s been a while, but I desperately need a break from things for a bit to work on some personal pieces. Which has been really rewarding, honestly! And I was getting to a place where I was afraid to post things, but I’ve had a nice break.
> 
> This fic, I wanted to explain a bit. I know this first chapter will give some Price of Peace vibes, but I will say, this isn’t going to be quite like that. Now, I haven’t seen the finale, but I’ve seen enough gifs on Tumblr to feel like I have. So this will be an alternate to the finale that will verge into an amnesia fic.
> 
> That said, it’s more modern-au ish in canon setting. Nothing super conflict driven outside of everyone getting a Tabula Rasa of sorts. It’ll be lighter, a little more fun, and less angsty than my fics typically are. ALSO, it’s going to delve a bit sci-fi ish, which will make sense as it goes. AND I’m going to take some of the premises set in Season 6 and kinda warp them a bit. Which… will also make more sense the more I write. I will say it IS canon compliant up until the last episode of the show, and I say that because some stuff will happen that will make you kinda go ‘wait, what???’ because it SEEMS not compliant, but it is. In it’s own weird way…
> 
> The title WITH ARMS UNFOLDING is 100% from the dodie song Arms Unfolding, which I 100% blame talistheintrovert for getting me obsessed with. PLEASE listen to it and trying and convince me that it isn’t the most Bellarke thing ever. TRY TO CONVINCE ME. “Yes, these new walls are pretty hard to crack / And it might take a while / Until I trust you on the tackle / I apologize, but it was only self-defense / Running away just made sense.”
> 
> I love you stars, you are gorgeous, intelligent, and lovely, and deserve the world.

WITH ARMS UNFOLDING

_By ChasetheWindTouchtheSky_

These things end the way they always do, it seems.

Bellamy runs with Clarke by his side, which is the only thing that feels right about any of this. She looks as determined as ever, an expression he’s seen more times than he can count. It feels selfish, but the amount of relief to have her next to him one final time. There wasn’t anyone else who wanted this to be a bloodshed-free moon than she and he knew it; the way she poured herself into repentance, desperately pleaded for no guns.

Maybe it was a wisdom he didn’t understand at the time. Like bringing an alcoholic into a bar. The only way to remove the worst impulses of man was to take the thing of temptation away from them. They had grown accustomed to being the ones who shot first, because that was the only way to survive.

But as Clarke has said many times, life had to be more than just surviving. So, it was time to put the guns down.

Except it wasn’t.

They’re sprinting across the woods of Sanctum, the pain from his leg still burning from only days ago, even though it feels like much longer. Clarke is shaking her head from time to time, as if there’s something residing in her that scares her. That she has to remind herself that she’s awake and safe. It pains Bellamy that the two of them haven’t had any time to really talk, to really figure out how she is. It eats at him, especially since she’s not the most forthcoming person in general.

Now?

Now she had her body taken over and he isn’t really sure about the details. Sure, he knows when it happened, he knows that she’s back, but he doesn’t know much more that happened. He doesn’t know when he specifically lost her. He doesn’t know what she did to stay alive. What she did to get back. He doesn’t know and for some reason that scares him.

There’s no time to think about that now.

“We’ll get Madi back,” he says to her as they’re running and Clarke stiffens, a falter in her step. “Russell has done a lot of things, but he won’t hurt a child.”

“He already did,” she says through gritted teeth. “He was using her bone marrow. He’s lost everything, and people who lose everything do crazy things.”

Bellamy knows there’s more weight to that sentence than she’s letting on, but again, there’s no time. The suns are burning against their backs and Clarke has that look on her face that she gets when she’s about to do something inherently stupid for the people she loves. It’s simultaneously one of his favorite and least favorite Clarke’s.

Although, he can’t argue with that. They all saw what Russell was doing – what he _had_ been doing to get what he wanted. Bellamy couldn’t help but think he was akin to the Ark. He waited until people turned eighteen to kill them, as if that somehow made what he was doing better. It was like the 100 – they all were waiting for death, because for some reason, being one day older than seventeen meant it was finally acceptable to kill you.

“He lost his wife and his daughter,” Clarke says. “And it’s my fault.”

“It’s _not_ your fault, Clarke.” Bellamy says, his eyes widening. “_He_ was the one who tried to kill you. _He _was the one who started this.”

“And somehow we’re finishing it.”

“Listen to me,” Bellamy says, stopping running to grip her shoulders. “Doing better does not mean giving up. It doesn’t mean becoming hosts for a deranged people. It means doing what will do the most good. By stopping them, we are stopping them from murdering our own people. Would it have been better if we didn’t have to kill anyone? Of course. I wish the blood on my hands would go away, but we have to make sure that we can do better.”

Clarke’s lower lip trembles. It’s the kind of vulnerability he feels like she saves for him. The breaking and cracking no one else gets to see. “But what does that mean?”

“Right now, it means we save Madi. And then we figure out how to make peace.”

Clarke sucks in a breath and puts her hands on her hips as she settles herself. Before he can register what’s happening, she reaches out and grips his hand, squeezing as if it grounds her. It’s painful and hard, but beautiful.

He never thought he’d hold her again. And here she is.

She nods. No more words, no more pain. Just the resolution she’s always held. The two of them continue to run, moving until they see a stand off at the edge of a cliff. It’d be a beautiful vista if he wasn’t so terrified. He sees Miller, Octavia, and other at the front of the lines, guns trained on the Sanctum guards. “Let her go!” Miller is shouting. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“If you don’t want something happening to her, then I’d put the gun down.”

“Madi!” Clarke exclaims and before Bellamy can stop it, she sprinting to the front of the line.

By the time Bellamy gets to the front, he can truly see what’s going on. Russell has Madi in his arms, her eyes distant and confused. There’s a small trail of black blood from where Raven had removed the flame and she’s clearly still reacclimating to not having the Commanders in her head. There are dark circles under her eyes and she blinks when Clarke runs up. “Mom?” She asks distantly.

It’s quiet, but the noise Clarke makes is heartbreaking.

“Madi, it’s okay,” she says, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“But you’re dead,” she mumbles. “Does this mean I’m dead?”

“No,” she says, managing her words without sobbing. “No, you’re not dead. I’m here.”

She makes a move to go further, but Russell brings a gun to Madi’s head. “I wouldn’t try that, Clarke.”

It’s as if he’s placed a spell on her. Clarke stops in her tracks. “Russell, please, don’t do this.”

“I never should’ve let you stay. I knew who you were, Clarke Griffin. I knew that you destroyed your previous planet. I knew that they called you the Commander of Death. And yet, I let you in.”

“You stole her body!” Bellamy cries, because honestly, he’s had enough of this guy. He’s tired of this man rewriting the mess that he created, as if he had no hand in it. “You started this.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his eyes wild. “I have sins far greater. As do the lot of you. You destroyed your world and you have made it your mission to destroy ours. Everything I’ve worked for! Everything I’ve created! Gone because you’ve arrived.”

“Your world is based on lies!” Octavia shouts. “You’ve been killing your own—”

“For their sacrifice for the good of Sanctum!” Russell shouts, digging the gun deeper into Madi’s temple. Bellamy sucks in a breath and even Clarke takes a step back.

They should’ve known that he would crack. After hundreds of years holding onto this scheme, after hundreds of years of trying for redemption from his original sin, he went as most gods did: cracking under the weight of time.

“Please don’t take it out on Madi. She hasn’t—”

“She murdered a prime! She is just as deviant and violent as anyone else. But I wouldn’t expect anything else with such a mother!”

Clarke takes a step back, her eyes red. “Says the man whose daughter supported oblation. Do not come at me with your self-righteousness. You did wrong by your people and are facing the consequences. You didn’t mean to kill everyone in your camp, it was the red sun.”

Russell falters, clearly shocked. Bellamy isn’t sure what Clarke’s talking about, but whatever it is, is getting to him. “That wasn’t your fault. Just like Madi’s behavior wasn’t hers – she had a piece of technology in her brain that forced her hand, just like you had the poisonous spores. What your crimes are, was what came after. Torturing unwilling people to bring your family back. Lying to your people – who trusted you – in order to get what you wanted. That is not how to lead. You have to bear it, so they don’t have to! Not put the burden on your people.”

“My family _was _my people!” Russell cries. “No whoever came back. And I would do it over and over again, if it meant I got my family back!”

Russell starts to shout further, but Clarke turns her head slightly to where Miller stands. It’s barely noticeable, but she nods ever so slightly, to which Miller clenches his jaw. Bringing his gun up, he points it at Russell, his limbs blocked by Madi’s. Sucking in a breath, he pulls the trigger.

The next seconds happen very quickly.

Both Russell and Madi crumble to the ground. The Sanctum guards startle and turn, which gives Miller and company opportunity to fire a few rounds and them to fall to the ground. It’s all very fast, but before Bellamy can register whether it’s safe, Clarke’s running past all the guards to Madi. She grabs Russell’s gun from his hand and unloads it, tossing it aside. Picking up Madi, Clarke runs her hands down the girl’s face. “Madi, Madi, it’s me. Are you okay?”

Madi blinks a few times, eye filling with tears. “Mom?” She asks. “H-How?”

“I’m here,” Clarke breathes, pulling Madi into her chest and holding her tightly. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Madi doesn’t do anything for a second. Then, her arms wrap and Clarke tightly and squeeze, burying her head in Clarke’s shoulder.

Bellamy has to look away. He thinks of the day he told Madi that Clarke was dead, the way she clung to him like she’s doing now. God, she is really just a kid. It’s easy to forget in war. When children become the slaughterers. The Ark did that to him.

He did that to her.

He sighs, approaching where Miller is pointing a gun at one of the guards and clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Always knew you were a good shot.”

“It would’ve been my last shot if I hit Madi.”

“Clarke would’ve understood.”

“Would she?” Miller laughs, but it’s strained. “I would like to never do this again.”

“You and me both, brother.” Bellamy says with a grin.

But the ease is short lived. There’s a scramble and a shout and suddenly, Russell is on his feet again, gun in hand. Clarke pushes Madi out of the way so that she collapses on the ground, her legs finally giving up. Raising her hands up, Clarke stares at Russell. He’s wild and unhinged, his demeanor of resolve long gone. His arm shakes as he points the gun at her. “You!” He shouts.

Clarke takes a step back, but there’s only so far she can go.

They stand on a cliff face, a shining light growing from below. As Bellamy strains his neck to see below, he sees the Anomaly. Octavia must see it at the same time he does, because her eyes widen and lock with his. “Clarke!” She exclaims, taking a step forward.

“You took everything from me!” Russell exclaims. “You took my daughter away! Forever!”

Clarke has a tear in her eye and she moves further back. “Russell, please,” she says softly. “The war is over. It’s time to stop.”

_“No!”_

“Miller, take him out.” Bellamy commands, panic rising in his chest. He just got her back. He _just_ got her back. He’s not losing her again. He’s not.

There’s no shot.

He turns to see Miller, his gun shaking in his hands. “Miller!” Bellamy shouts. “Miller, take him out!”

Miller freezes.

There’s a shot.

Bellamy waits for Russell to fall, but it never comes.

Instead, Clarke puts her hands over her stomach, her hands coming back wet with black blood. Her eyes widen, as if somehow she never expected this to happen. A tear rolls down her cheek as her hands hang at her sides. She looks around until she catches Bellamy’s gaze, mouthing something. He strains to try and read her lips, but it seems like something so impossible, he believes that he read it wrong.

Her foot stumbles back, but there’s no earth there.

Time slows, as it does in moments like this.

Clarke falls back, where there’s no earth and no person to catch her. Bellamy thinks he shouts something, but there’s a buzzing in his ears that overpowers anything he could possibly be hearing. Someone else says something as her back arches back as she falls. Before he knows it, he’s sprinting over to where she is, her arm outstretched.

There’s no way he’d ever reach her in time.

He only makes it when the Anomaly is engulfing her, eyes wide and glittering with the reflection of the green flames. _“CLARKE!”_ he bellows, breaking through the noise of buzzing and screaming.

She falls until she’s overcome by green flames, enveloping her body until she’s nothing more than a whisper of the past. _“NO!” _He shouts, dropping to his knees as if someone has taken all the fight out of him. _“No!”_

There’s a weak chuckle behind him. Russell is on the ground, grabbing his leg where Miller shot him. He lets out a weak chuckle. “It’s what needed to be done.”

A rage courses through him and he gets to his feet. Grabbing a wayward gun at his side, he cocks it and points it directly at Russell’s head. “You’re the one who killed her. You stole her body. You have taken lives that aren’t yours.” Bellamy says, his words wavering. “You took her. You took her from us. You took her from _me_.”

“And now you know what it feels like to have the love of your life taken from you. She killed my wife. I cannot bring my love back. It’s only fair.”

“_You_ did this!” Bellamy shouts. “_Don’t put that on her!”_ With anger covering his eyes like a sheet, he brings the gun and shoots him in the side. “I could really just watch you suffer.”

“I’ve lost everything. How much more suffering could you perform?”

“Bellamy, please!” Octavia shouts, running over to him. “Bellamy, you can’t. This isn’t what Clarke would want you to do.”

“Clarke isn’t here!” Bellamy shouts. “She isn’t here, is she? I am going to kill him and—”

Before he can continue, the Anomaly makes a monstrous noise. He flinches and watches as it rises up over the cliff face as if alive, it’s own person, ready to devour the world. He isn’t sure how he feels about it. All he wanted was to start over. A peaceful life he was never given.

“Run!” Gabriel shouts, grabbing Octavia’s shoulder. “We have to run!”

The green flames flood the ground, but stop before it reaches anyone’s feet. It retreats back to the valley, two figures laying on the ground. “Clarke?” Bellamy asks, rushing over.

But when the two stand, he recoils. Diyoza brushes her pants off, lines around her eyes. She seems to have taken on years that have not passed, grey littering her hair. A young girl bounces to her feet, whirling around. “Clarke?” She asks, eyes wide. “Mom, where’s Clarke?”

Bellamy is speechless. “W-What?”

“Mom, where’s Clarke?” The girl shouts. “She was right there, she was right behind us!”

Diyoza’s eyes soften. “Hope,” she starts.

“Clarke!” Hope shouts. “Clarke, where are you?”

Bellamy steps up to were they are. “You saw Clarke?” He asks. “Where did you—”

Before he can ask the question, the Anomaly rises up and engulfs them all.

***

It’s a typical sort of day. Bellamy rises with the suns, the golden haze over the mountains. It’s a beautiful sort of day that makes him want to stay in bed, but the allure of the sunrise gets to him. So he turns to get out of bed, pull on some pants, running his hands through his hair a few times to try and tame it. Across the room lies another figure sleeping, their chest rising and falling. It’ll be hours until they get up, so it’s the only time he’ll have to himself.

When he opens the door to his cabin, he’s greeted to a soft light that pours over the land. “You are such a weirdo.”

Bellamy snorts when Raven moves toward him, rolling her eyes. “How am I the weirdo in this situation? You’re up as early as I am.”

“Because it’s clinically proven that people who are early risers are smarter. And I’m always the smartest person in the room.”

“And the most modest.”

Raven nudges him with her elbow and he can’t help but laugh. She reaches out and hands him a mug of something, to which he lifts an eyebrow. “And yet you have this all prepared?”

“Well, I know you’re a weirdo who gets up early.” She says. “So I’ve been preparing for the hunt this afternoon. I think you guys will be okay. It’s too bad we don’t have any available doctors to save your asses when you inevitably get hurt.”

Bellamy takes a sip of coffee and sighs contentedly. “You always say that and we always come back.”

“Because you always have a doctor! You’re going without one this time, like a complete pack of idiots.”

Bellamy makes a face. “Or maybe we don’t want to waste time and resources. Have you thought of that?”

“Uh, no, because that’s completely crazy. And I don’t entertain crazy thoughts.”

“I’m so tired of your sass, Reyes.”

“No you aren’t, you love it.” She laughs. “Can you try and make sure the other don’t get in a fight this time? Murphy’s going, and you know how that always goes.”

“If only I had that power.”

“Fair. Be sure to be back by bedtime, grandpa!” She exclaims, bounding off to the Engineering hut.

Bellamy can’t help but look at her fondly as she leaves.

It’s a quiet sort of morning, where even the early risers seem to be taking a sleep-in day. It’s exactly how he likes it. To be alone with his thoughts, with nothing more than nature to be his company. Sipping his coffee, Bellamy smiles, grateful for the world around him. The only time he picks up his gun is to hunt, and the only time someone yells at him is if he’s started ranting about history.

It’s perfect.

“Hey man,” someone says behind him. Bellamy smiles as Miller approaches, scooting over on the bench he’s settled on to make room. “Sorry to bug your solitude.”

“So rude.”

“I know.” He laughs. “Sorry again about Jackson not being able to come on the hunt with us. There’s been a lot of injuries lately, so he has to do a bunch of follow-up appointments. I told him with you there, no one’s going to get in any trouble.”

“And he believed it?”

“Absolutely not, Jackson’s really smart, Bellamy.”

Bellamy laughs, trying to drown it out in his coffee. “Thanks man.”

“No problem.” Miller says. “Are you sure you want everyone on the list? You know how Murphy gets with—”

“I already said yes, Miller.” Bellamy sizes. “I know they don’t get along, but they’re going to have to put on their grown-up pants and get over themselves.”

“Okay, probably not what I should take away from this, but can I be there when you tell them to put on their grown-up pants?”

“Miller?”

“Yeah?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Right,” Miller says, scrambling to his feet. “Just… nah, forget about it.”

Bellamy frowns. He wanted to be alone, but now his curiosity is piqued. “What?”

“It’s nothing, I—”

“Spit it out.”

“I’m worried about you.”

Bellamy recoils. “I’m sorry, what?”

Miller sighs. “I could’ve done that better, but ah, hell. Bellamy, I’m worried about you. All you do is work and trying and make the compound better. You never take any time for yourself.”

“Miller,” Bellamy groans. This isn’t the first time he’s heard this.

“No, hear me out before you say anything.” Miller says. “Ever since we got to this planet, you’ve been all about building a world, which is great, don’t get me wrong. But we’re not at war anymore. It’s okay to have some fun every once and a while. You don’t have to go on every hunt. You don’t have to be at every council meeting. You can meet girls, you can have a drink, you can hang out and not talk about city-stuff.”

“I hang out with you all the time.”

“Yeah, as a third wheel with my dates with Jackson. I love ya, man, but not in that way. Not that I haven’t thought about it.”

“Miller, be serious.”

“I am! We’d be a sexy couple.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Was there a point to this?”

“Yeah. Get a life, Blake. It’s sad.”

“Thanks, comforting.”

Miller straightens. “I’m here for you, man.”

Bellamy smiles grimly. “Even when I don’t want you to be.”

“_Especially_ when you don’t want me to be.” Bellamy moves to swing at him, to which Miller scurries away and laughs. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving. But think about what I said.”

“Never.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Miller offers him a weak wave as he leaves, to which Bellamy returns. He scowls. He was having such a good morning.

It’s not the first time someone has ‘offered advice’ to his solitude, and he’s certain it wouldn’t be the last. He would find it endearing if it wasn’t so annoying. Sure, it’d be nice to have a person and it’d be nice to not work all the time. But for some reason, he can’t help but feel already taken.

It’s a feeling he’s never expressed out loud.

It would sound crazy. But it’s as if there was a person waiting for him, and him for them. It doesn’t make any sense and he knows he’s losing it, but it’s as if his soul longs for someone he hasn’t been able to find.

“Blake, are we doing this, or what?”

Murphy stands in the middle of the compound, already annoyed. That’s not a great way to start a hunt, but here they are. Bellamy didn’t realize how long he’d been alone to his own thoughts, but there’s a large group of them assembled in the center of town, waiting. He stands and grabs his pack that he’d set next to him. “Simmer down, of course we’re going.”

“It’s just if I have to stand next to this guy for any longer, I may shoot him.”

Bellamy sighs. “Murphy.”

“He thinks he’s better than me.”

“I am better than you.”

“Wells, please.” Bellamy states, sighing.

Wells stands a few feet away from Murphy, his hands across his chest. “I only speak the truth.”

“I swear to god, you two are children.” Bellamy sighs. “Speaking of children, where are Jasper and Monty?”

There’s a loud noise, the falling of something that sounds like it broke something, and then a squeak, “Present! Don’t get mad at us teach!”

“Still wat to go hunting?” Raven snorts as she comes up on his side. “With this clown fest over here?”

“Wanna come?” He grits through his teeth.

“I’d rather die, thanks. Don’t shoot each other.”

Bellamy snorts, turning to the group. “Everyone ready?”

Octavia bounds up. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry, boss man was late too. Must be a Blake thing.” Murphy grumbles.

“Bell was late? What universe have we been dropped in?”

“Lets just get going.” Bellamy sighs. “Before I change my mind about this.”

The group of them head out, bickering following the group of them. It’s the annoying, yet comforting kind of bickering that makes Bellamy grateful for them all, but also that he wants to strangle them. He chooses to ignore it as Miller makes his way to the front so he can have some company, but also so that he won’t have to deal with Wells and Murphy or Jasper and Monty. In the back is Octavia and Gabriel, who have been spending more time together and Bellamy tries not to think too hard about. He already did the thing where he interfered with Octavia’s love life and he’s never doing that again.

“Woah, hold up.” Bellamy says when he sees something move in the distance.

Miller puts up his hand and people settle down. Even Murphy and Wells, who are getting close to coming to blows.

A few yards away, a creature leaps onto a rock with a grace Bellamy’s never seen. It’s a feline with long limbs, covered in spots of amber. When it turns its head, it reveals piercing blue eyes. Stretching on the rock, the animal soaks in the sun.

“We can’t kill that,” Wells says, eyes wide.

“Why not?” Murphy asks. “It’s an animal and it’s food.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Remember that logic the next time you threaten to kill me.”

“Why? You’re not beautiful.”

“Now I know you’re in denial.” Murphy says with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Bellamy hisses. Raising his scope, he has a clean shot. But there’s something to what Wells said that’s in the back of his mind. He can’t help but feel guilt curling up his chest as he points his gun.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

When the voice resounds in the forest, everyone flinches.

“Oh my god, Forest Spirit!” Jasper cries, turning to Monty.

“Forest Spirit?” Monty exclaims, rushing over and clutching Jasper’s arm. “How do you know?”

“I don’t! But what other explanation do you have?”

“You’re right, it’s science.” Monty nods.

“Who brought Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Soon-To-Be-Dead, over here?” Murphy snaps.

“Really?” Miller cries, turning to him. “Now?”

“I’d appreciate it if you put your weapons down. No need for that.” The voice says again. “They make me uncomfortable.”

“Are you really telling us what to do?” Murphy exclaims. “We have you outnumbered!”

“How can you be sure?” The voice asks.

The voice has a point. Bellamy lifts his eyebrows at the guys and puts his hands up, slowly putting his gun to the ground. Miller and Wells joins him, while Jasper and Monty all but chuck theirs aside. He grumbles the entire time, but Murphy finally does as well, crossing his arms. “This is stupid.”

“No, you guys are.” A figure emerges from the forest and Bellamy feels his breath knock out of him.

A woman comes into view, clothes in black pants and a white tank top, her long twisting hair in a braid that cascades down her shoulders. There are scars that litter her bare arms, but that’s not what he focuses on. Her bright green eyes glitter in the sunlight and she smirks at them. “Now, I think we can chat. I’d prefer it if you didn’t shoot Vale.”

As if on cue, the cat peeks up from where its sunbathing and stares at where the group of them are. It switches in an instant, its back arching and it hisses at them, reveal large teeth.

“Who are you?” Bellamy asks.

But even as he asks, it’s as if something falls into place. He looks at this woman, standing in front of them with an amused look at the guns at the ground. “I only give that information to the people who deserve it.”

“Did she really just say we haven’t unlocked that part of the challenge?” Jasper asks.

The woman lifts an eyebrow. With a laugh, she says, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t hunt in these woods. If you can resume to the west, I’d appreciate it.”

“Why should we listen to you?” Murphy exclaims.

“Because I asked nicely,” she says sweetly. Moving forward toward the man, she says, “And I only do that once.”

Bellamy watches her confront Murphy and tells himself proposing to a stranger is not the best way to make a good impression. He moves towards where she is. “We set our weapons down. The least you can do is tell us who you are.”

“Someone who doesn’t want gunshot around my house.” The woman says. When Bellamy doesn’t budge, she sighs. “My name’s Clarke. I live close by. I’d prefer if you didn’t hunt here.”

Bellamy nods. “You heard the woman, let’s head west.”

“Are you serious?” Murphy exclaims. “Some rando tells us not to hunt here and you just stop what we’re doing and listen? Is this real?”

“Ah, as I thought. You have a hard time determining reality.” Wells states. He turns to Bellamy. “It explains so much.”

Clarke smirks and looks at the ground. “I appreciate it.” She reaches a hand out.

Bellamy eyes it. Against his better judgment, he takes it. “Bellamy.”

“Nice to meet you, Bellamy. May we meet again.”

He startles at that. “Yeah,” He says, frowning. “May we meet again.”

It’s odd saying that without death around. It’s been a long-standing adage of his people, but she must not know the weight it carries. It’s like putting his shoes on the wrong feet to say it without pain. But when she smiles at him, he can’t help return it.

The group of them moves forward, the cat resuming its sun bath as they do so. Clarke doesn’t move from her spot, offering them a wave and a smile. Bellamy looks behind his shoulder and smiles back at her, unable to ignore the feeling in his chest that seems to tell him things he doesn’t understand. Miller nudges his shoulder with a sly grin and he shakes his head.

There’s no time for fantasizing, he already has everything he’s ever wanted.

He casts another glance over his shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves! 
> 
> Thank you so much for such a warm welcome back – you are all so wonderful and you mean so much to me! I’m glad you guys are sticking with it, even though it’s hella confusing. But I love Wells with all my heart and any chance to bring him back, amirite?

CHAPTER TWO

The next few things go like this: Bellamy wakes up, he goes about his business, gets in approximately five separate arguments with varying people – Murphy, Monty, Murphy, Murphy, Murphy – and he tells himself not to think about the person he met in the forest. Bellamy didn’t consider himself a romantic; well, he enjoyed the _thought_ of romance, but always figured it simply wasn’t in the cards for him. His first love Gina was killed, Echo and him drifted apart. He honestly isn’t sure how it happened. He once told her things would change on the Ground, and then they did and even worse: they changed on the new planet.

Bellamy Blake enjoyed reading about the great loves – the loves that spanned over centuries and people fought wars over – but thought the overall concept was overrated in reality. He’d leave it for the Greek tragedies. Because that was the thing: at one point the lovers were separated. By time, by space, by… whatever. It was a tragedy for a reason.

He’s had enough tragedy.

“Hey, Bellamy!”

Bellamy looks up where he’s hammering the side of a new cabin, wiping the thin layer of sweat off his brow. He sees Harper bound toward him. He gives her a wave. Harper may be one of his favorite people on the planet, and he can’t help but smile whenever he sees her. Her braids flit behind her as she runs, and she’s already smiling as she approaches. She and Monty had a tendency to bring out the best in each other, even though they were already two of the best people he’d ever met.

Maybe there is such a thing as realistic true love.

Not for him, of course. But it’s comforting to know it exists.

“Harper, hey.” He says, setting the hammer aside. “To what do I owe this glorious honor.”

Harper tilts her head back and lets out a resounding laugh. “This is why I keep you around.”

“That and my rugged good looks?”

“Well obviously.” She says with a chuckle. “I wanted to come over because the Council is having a meeting about the girl in the woods and I thought you’d want to be there.”

Bellamy startles. The girl that has been decidedly _not_ on his mind and not making it so he has a hard time sleeping comes back into focus. “What?” He cries. “Why on earth would they be talking about her?”

“Trying to figure out if she’s a threat of some kind. You know how it goes – everyone is so paranoid about any newcomers.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “That’s absurd. Someone who is living in the woods – we already knew that there were people living there – isn’t immediately a threat. What do they want to do? Storm her house?”

Harper rubs the back of her head. “Well, yeah.”

_“What?”_

“That’s why I snuck out to find you. I thought you’d want to be a part of the conversation.”

“Who thought it’d be a good idea to recreate the council on the Ark?” Bellamy sighs. “I don’t know why it was such a popular plan. All the same issues are coming back. What we need is a leader who isn’t afraid of asking – or doing – the hard problems.”

“What about you?”

Snorting, Bellamy sighs. “You know that’s not my forte.”

“I disagree. You got us through some tough times on the Ring.”

Bellamy waves his hand aside, uncomfortable with whatever praise Harper seems determined to give him. “There were only a few of us. It takes a lot more to inspire a crowd.”

“I think you’re more inspiring than you think. You kept us alive when we got to the Ground. You kept us alive when you were on the Ring. Give yourself some credit, Bellamy.”

“Never.” Bellamy says, but he can’t help but grin. Harper rolls her eyes and gives him a playful shove, the two of them making their way through the camp.

When he walks through, he can’t help but feel a small sense of pride as he does so. The houses are slowly getting built, people are decorating their spaces like it may be a permanent space, and they aren’t at war. It’s a dream he never thought he’d get to have.

Except he also wants to strangle someone. They were told it would be different once they got settled, but for some reason they still act as if the original group to Earth are the children they sent. Bellamy is in his late twenties – he’s not the person he was when he snuck on the Dropship.

Barging into the Town Hall that was finished just last week, Bellamy can’t help but give the group gathered a wry smile. “Having an impromptu Council meeting? Odd, seeing as I’m a part of the council.”

“Told you he was going to be pissed,” Murphy mutters from the corner, picking under his fingernails.

“We couldn’t find you,” Abby states with a smile. “Otherwise we’d love your input.”

“That’s funny, because Harper found me pretty quickly.”

“Please don’t bring me into this.”

Bellamy sighs. “What is this I hear about wanting to attack the woman in the woods?”

“We did not say attack, I want to make that very clear.” Abby says, putting her hands up. “But you guys go on a hunt and come back with intel that there’s a person living alone in the woods? Between our treaty with the Children of Gabriel and Santcum, we can’t take any chances at causing problems again.”

“I’ll say this again,” Gabriel says, stepping up to the table. Bellamy smiles at him, encouraging him to speak. When the Children of Gabriel decided to go back to their homes, Gabriel decided he’d stay with them. Bellamy chose to ignore how he looked at Octavia when deciding. “I know no one of that description and I’ve been living in these woods for quite literally hundreds of years. They aren’t a part of my clan, or Sanctum that I know of.”

“See?” Abby says calmly. “We don’t want to attack or scare them. But they are a wild card. And don’t you agree from experience, having wildcards usually cause more damage than good?”

“I’m a wildcard and I think I bring a certain level pep to a group.” Murphy offers.

“You’ve literally murdered people, sit down.” Wells says, rolling his eyes.

“No one asked you, Jiminy Cricket.”

“Whoever keeps giving him access to the ship’s movie system is going to need to pay for my therapy.”

“God, if I had to listen to your problems for an extended period of time, I’d need payment too.”

“Shut _up_, Murphy.”

“Isn’t that a swear word in your world?”

“Can we refocus?” Bellamy cuts in to the Wells and Murphy squabbling. “We also don’t want to make an enemy of someone is a seemingly innocuous person.”

“Why don’t we send a couple people just to check it out?” Miller offers, shrugging. Bellamy turns to Miller, who is trying not to grin. He’s knows that face. He doesn’t like that face.

“Miller, what are you doing?”

Miller ignores him. “If you’re worried about this person, we should probably get more information, right? But Bellamy has a point—”

“For once.”

“Murphy, I have punched you before, I will punch you again.”

“In front of everyone, darling?”

“—we shouldn’t scare someone if we don’t have to.” Miller continues through them. “Don’t want to make an enemy we don’t need to. What if a couple people go to find them and see if they’re as peaceful as they seem?”

Abby ponders this. “That’s not a bad idea. Probably myself—”

“_Actually_, I think it should be from the group that already saw her, as to not scare her.” Miller says, that grin Bellamy hates growing. “Because if a group of new people show up, it may frighten her.”

Abby frowns.

“What about myself, Bellamy, and Wells?”

“Hey!” Murphy exclaims, gesturing to himself. “I’m sitting right here.”

“Literally everyone knows that’d be a disaster.”

“She got in my face last time. I need to get the last word.”

“Yeah, you’re proving my point, sit down.” Miller says, shaking his head. “The three of us would be the best, because I think Jasper and Monty would be a bit much.”

“_Hey!”_

“I would suggest Harper, but she wasn’t with us the first time.”

Harper gives him a set of finger guns. “Thanks, babe.”

Miller winks at her. “It makes the most sense. We don’t want to make an enemy.”

“And you think if I go, we will?” Murphy cries.

_“Yes.”_ Says Miller, Wells, and Bellamy in unison.

“I see I’ve been overruled this one time.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Please, it’s a good idea. I know new people are a potential threat, but we can’t live each day thinking the world is going to end.”

“But the world literally did end.”

“Murphy,” Bellamy groans, closing his eyes. “Let us go first. If something happens, we can go with your plan.”

Abby stares at the man for a second. Bellamy can see she’s thinking about the proposal and her more concerned instincts are telling her not to do anything. Then, she sighs. “Fine. The three of you can try and get more information about our new guest. If you are gone for more than 48 hours, we’re going to do this my way.”

Bellamy can’t help but exhale in relief. “Thank you, Abby. We’ll be back.”

Abby sighs, her hard expression softening. Bellamy’s always thought that she was born to be a mother, but never given an opportunity outside of the ragtag group of delinquents who have survived with her. He’s watched her with Murphy and Raven, even himself, and wondered why she never had children. Maybe the medical side of her that was concerned about oxygen on the Ark that stopped her. He never thought it’d be polite to ask.

“You know that I just say this because I’m worried for us, right?” She asks, her tone softening.

It’s all it takes for Bellamy to stop his combative tone. He deflates and nods. “I know, Abby.”

She gives him a small smile. “Be sure that you do.”

Bellamy turns out of the Town Hall, only hesitating when Miller falls in line beside him. He cocks his head at his friend. “What are you up to, Miller?”

“Nothing,” the man returns innocently.

“I could not believe you less.”

“Seriously, it’s—”

“Out with it Miller.”

“You guys were _totally_ vibin’.”

Bellamy stops dead in his tracks and wheels on him. “I’m sorry, _what?”_

Miller puts his hands up. “It’s not just me who thought so. It’s the only thing Wells and Murphy have agreed on ever.”

“Did you honestly just put a whole mission plan in motion to try and set me up with the random girl in the woods?”

“Yup, absolutely, no regrets.”

“What is wrong with you? Am I that pathetic that you need to go out of your way to do something like this?”

“You’re not pathetic Bellamy.” Miller sighs. “This is what friends do. They help each other get laid.”

“This is _not_ what friends do. Friends don’t do this.”

“They totally do.”

“This is not normal.” Bellamy states. “I need you to know that.”

“I know nothing.”

“Finally, something we agree on.” Bellamy runs his hand down his face, thinking not for the first time that he needs better friends. “Have we had an Anomaly flare up in a while? I feel like it’s been a while.”

Miller goes from a shit-eating grin to sobering in a second. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think so. It’s been a really long time.”

“A couple months, if I recall.” Bellamy says distantly. “What happened a couple months ago?”

Miller shrugs. “Was it when…” he drifts off and frowns. “Ah, I, uh… don’t know. I don’t know what happened a couple months ago.”

“Me either,” Bellamy says.

“Let’s not freak out until we need to, though.” Miller states. “Let’s focus on one problem at a time.”

Bellamy snorts. “Clarke isn’t a problem.”

Miller lifts an eyebrow.

“So what, I remember her name. Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Before Bellamy can retort, Miller stalks away. “Hey, get back here!”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of me not believe you!”

***

It’s one of the more calm treks through the forest that Bellamy can remember. Even when they weren’t at war, Wells and Murphy were arguing about one thing or another, or Jasper was getting into some sort of danger because he has no self-control. But walking with Miller and Wells is the least-dramatic time he’s had in a while. The only thing he has to deal with is Miller occasionally throwing him suggestive looks from the side.

Of course, the moment he thinks about this, things go awry.

They trudging through the forest and a low growl rumbles across the area. Bellamy puts a hand up, gazing around the branches. All he sees are the low-hanging leaves and bushes in the distance. Nothing rustles outside of the wind, which only makes him more anxious. Miller shoulders his weapon and Wells does the same, the two of them perfectly silent.

Nothing happens.

Then everything happens.

Like a streak of lighting, an animal bolts from the bushes and runs straight at Wells, swiping across his leg. Wells lets out a cry, gripping his leg as blood pours from his fingers, collapsing to the ground. Bellamy shoots at the creature, but it’s too fast. It knows the terrain too well. He can hear it skitter around, its claws tapping against rocks.

“What was that?” Miller asks, out of breath as if he’s just run a long distance.

“I don’t know, but it’s toying with us,” Bellamy says lowly. “Just keep your eyes sharp, weapons—”

The animal streaks out of the forest and goes for him, Bellamy taking aim and another shot. The animal lets out a screech and then veers to the side, missing Bellamy. It plunges into the bushes, but instead of circling them like it was, he can hear its feet patter in the distance.

He keeps his gun up, though. Bellamy waits for it to come back, Wells’ groans echoing in the forest. Throwing his gun over his shoulder, Bellamy goes to his knees where Wells is clutching his leg. “Okay, you’re okay.” Bellamy says, his hands hovering where the blood is seeping through his fingers. “Miller and I will carry you to Jackson, it’ll be—”

“I asked you not to hunt here.”

All three of them flinch, Miller whipping around and pointing his gun at the voice. Clarke stands in front of them, a bag in her hand, eyeing the gun with obvious discomfort. “Can you put that down, please?”

Miller doesn’t though. He’s shaking and frozen, as he always gets when he’s scared. Clarke takes a cautious step toward him, her green eyes focused and unblinking. Placing a gentle hand on the rifle, she slowly points it down to the ground. “It’s okay,” she says. “It won’t come back.”

“How do you know?”

Clarke crouches, touching the blood that’s seeped on the floor. “One of you injured it. It’s not going to hunt when it’s injured.”

She turns her attention to where Wells is on the ground, worry in her eyes. “Hi there,”

“Hey,” Wells offers weakly, his face paling. “Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise. But I had hoped it’d be under better circumstances.” Clarke offers. She places her hands on top of his and Wells cries out. “I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” With a swift motion, she rips the bottom of her shirt off and wraps it around the middle of his thigh, tying tightly so Wells yelps. “Can you two carry him?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy says, swallowing. It’s such an inopportune time to be having a come apart, but she’s very close to him and for some reason it’s making his heart go faster. He’s never had this happen – he’s never had a person affect him in such a visceral way. There’s a part of him – an illogical part – that feels like he knows her in some capacity. He needs to get a grip. “We’re going to take him back to camp—”

“No.” She states, more bossy than he was expecting. “He’s losing too much blood. My house isn’t far from here. I have something I can stitch him with.”

“You know how to do that?”

“Would I suggest it if I didn’t?” She exclaims, letting go of his leg and wiping the blood onto her shirt. “Let’s go.”

Bellamy isn’t sure how it happened, but somehow he’s following a small blonde woman he’s only spoken to once. She’s careful to lead them over rocks that won’t hit Wells’ leg, her tone going from soft to clinical depending on who she’s talking to. When they reach her house, Bellamy almost gasps.

It’s as if it’s being eaten by plants. Vines and flowers wrap over the wooden planks and the windows are nothing more than spaces in the wood. She shoves the door open and rushes over to where a table is, swiping her hands across is so that things shatter against the floor. “Here, put him here.” She instructs, rushing to the kitchen.

Bellamy and Miller set Wells on the table and he lets out a weak noise. Clarke runs from the kitchen, a basket full of what look like leaves to Bellamy. She rushes to his side, placing her hand on his head. “What’s your name?”

“W-Wells.” Wells offers weakly.

Clarke smiles warmly at him. “Wells.” She says. Placing her free hand on his chest, she states, “It’s nice to meet you. This is going to hurt.”

“Lie to me, why don’t you.”

Clarke laughs softly, then turns to Bellamy and Miller. “I need you to hold him for me, please.”

“What?” Miller exclaims.

“I need to sew his leg up, but he’s going to fight against it. I need you to hold him down for me.”

Bellamy looks at Miller. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

Miller exhales sharply.

The two of them go on opposite sides of Wells, placing their hands on his shoulders and hips. Clarke hops on the table and straddles his leg, grabbing a few things out of the basket she brought in. She grabs a knife and starts to delicately cut away his pants, offering a few platitudes and he heaves. Once his leg is free, revealing the clawed flesh. Bellamy has to look away. He thought he’d be used to the sight of blood by now, but it never gets easier.

Unscrewing the cap on a jar, Clarke carefully pours a liquid against his leg. The moment it touches his skin, he jerks up, his leg swinging. Bellamy pushes on his hips harder while Clarke clamps down on his leg. “I know it hurts, Wells, I know.”

“What is that?” Bellamy snaps.

“Alcohol.” She states, not even looking at him. She pours it over a few tools in her hand, stringing a needle carefully. Placing her hands on his leg, she looks Wells square in the eye. “This is the part that’s gonna suck.”

“Just this part?” He laughs weakly.

She laughs with him, turning her attention to his leg.

Bellamy focuses on holding him down because he can’t listen to the screams.

***

Wells lies on the table, asleep.

Miller and Bellamy are sitting awkwardly in a couple of fashioned chairs in the corner of the room while Clarke putters around the kitchen. The two of them washed the blood off their hands in a well outside, all being watched by the same feline that was sunbathing on a rock just the other day. They don’t talk. Miller even stops teasing Bellamy and he can tell the man is on edge. Despite Clarke’s help, she still is an enigma.

So when Clarke comes into the room with a few bowls of something that’s steaming, then returning with a few glasses, she smiles. “I think we’ve all earned a drink.”

“Trying to liquor us up?” Miller asks accusingly?”

She merely eyes him and lifts an eyebrow. “You don’t have to have it. I’m going to have a drink. I usually don’t do that on other people, so I need to calm down.”

That’s when Bellamy notices her hands. They’re shaking ever-so-slightly and she brings the mug up to her lips. Miller lifts an eyebrow, shrugs, and then does the same. “Really?” Bellamy asks. “That’s all it takes?”

“I really need a drink too.”

Bellamy looks at his. “Fuck,” he sighs. “So do I.” When he takes a sip, he shudders when it burns down his throat. Turning his attention to the bowl, he asks, “What’s this?”

“Stew.” Clarke says. “From the vegetables in my garden and some leftover meat.”

“Yeah, speaking of which, why is the forest trying to eat your house?” Miller asks.

Clarke lets out a laugh, which is a sparkling sound that resonates in Bellamy’s chest. Something about it seems so rare – like a noise he’s never heard before. He needs to get a grip over this woman. “It does, doesn’t it? I don’t know, plants tend to grow where I am. It’s a little out of control.”

“You’ve had this happen often?” Bellamy asks. “This is an active problem you have?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t know. Maybe I was a tree in a past life.”

“I think I was a dog.” Miller offers. “But like, a really good dog. A loyal one.”

Clarke smirks into her drink. She catches Bellamy’s eye and he has to do everything in his power not to laugh himself. God, he wants to make her laugh. He doesn’t know where the impulse is coming from, but he longs for that noise once more.

“Thank you,” Bellamy says instead, trying to sober himself up. “For what you did for Wells.”

Clarke’s grin falters. “Of course,” she says, almost accusatorily. “I wouldn’t have left him.”

“I wasn’t implying—”

Clarke sighs. “Just because I’m alone, doesn’t mean I’m cold.”

Bellamy puts his hands up. “I wasn’t suggesting—”

“You’ll have to forgive my friend here, he buries himself with work so he doesn’t have to have normal conversation.” Miller interjects, kicking Bellamy’s foot. But then he looks at her. “So you’re alone?”

Clarke eyes him. “So you are getting intel.”

“What? No—”

She shrugs, scooping some of the stew in her bowl and taking a bite. “I figured. It’s what I would’ve done if the roles were reversed.”

“We’re not—”

“You don’t need to lie to me, I’m not mad.” Clarke says. “Just figures.” She stirs her soup.

Bellamy eyes her. He finds himself drawn to her in a way he’s never felt about anyone else, so far so that he’s leaning forward to be closer to her. It’s as if there’s something pulling him to her that he can’t explain, like a string wrapping them together. “You are alone, though?”

She looks up, her expression unreadable. “Always.”

He can’t bring himself to look away. “Why haven’t you looked for other people before?”

Clarke shrugs. “I’ve always been alone. It’s easier to keep to yourself than to put yourself out there and be told you aren’t enough.” She says quietly. “It’s been this long, I don’t mind. Plus, I have Vale.”

There’s a growl and Miller lets out a yelp, jumping closer to Bellamy. Vale strides out of the shadows, eyeing the two of them suspiciously. Clarke makes a noise and he comes over to where she is, wrapping next to her. A rumbling noise sounds as Clarke scratches behind his eyes, his eyes closing slowly. “He likes you guys.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a happy sound.”

“Don’t be scared.” Clarke laughs. “He wouldn’t sleep around you if he was concerned.”

Wells makes a noise behind them and the three of them look. Clarke frowns. “It’ll be a while until he’ll be able to walk back to your camp.”

“More than 48 hours?”

Clarke blinks. “That’s an odd time constraint.”

Bellamy offers, “We need to be back in 48 hours so they know we’re safe.”

“You mean that I’m not a threat and have killed you.” Clarke says. “I’m happy to keep him here if you guys go back and say he’s recovering.”

That look flashes across Miller’s face once more. Before Bellamy can do anything, Miller says, “Why don’t I just go myself? One of us should probably stay with Wells, and you only need one person to deliver a message. Bellamy, you cool with that?”

Bellamy glares at him. “Miller—”

“You see,” Miller says to Clarke. “I would like to get back to my boyfriend.”

Clarke turns to Bellamy. “Do you mind?” She asks, smiling. “I wouldn’t mind the company. And I think Wells would probably prefer having someone here he knows.”

“Yeah, Bellamy, Wells would prefer it.”

“Would he now?” Bellamy says through gritted teeth. But he doesn’t offer anything to the contrary. But when he looks at Clarke, he can’t help but think this is where he should be. Like something slots into place and he’s found a home he didn’t know he was looking for. Of course, that’s crazy.

“He’s staying.” Miller says when Bellamy takes too long. “You’ll be able to get to know Clarke better and everything!”

“Yeah, look at how that turned out?” Bellamy grumbles.

Clarke puts her hand on his and Bellamy almost recoils. It’s as if someone shocks him with electricity. His hand tingles as she rests hers there, her green eyes earnest. “If you don’t want to, I won’t be offended.”

“No, no,” Bellamy stammers, feeling like his body is slowly going in flames. “I, uh, would like to stay.”

She beams at him.

“Perfect!” Miller exclaims. “I’ll get some sleep and then report back. Who knows when I’ll come to get you Bellamy—”

“Hey now.”

“—We’re so lucky you were there Clarke, seriously.” Miller says, taking a bite of his stew. “Holy shit, this is amazing. I’m taking some of this for the road.”

Clarke laughs and returns her attention to her food. Bellamy has an entire conversation comprised of glares with Miller, but then sighs when he knows it’s not like he’s actually _losing_ in this situation. But it’s the principle of the matter.

But when he eyes Clarke, he thinks maybe it isn’t the worst thing in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: SOLID FLUFF. 
> 
> Honestly, this fic will be different than what I usually write. Because OH MY GOD THEY WERE SOULMATES. 
> 
> The mystery of the added characters is still alive. And starting next chapter will be Clarke’s POV. Because home girl is good at playing cool, but what’s going on internally?
> 
> Also, Bellamy, Clarke, and Wells? The friendship of my dreams that we never got.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Thanks loves!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: ARE YOU CONFUSION.
> 
> Because it is canon compliant but Wells, Monty, and Jasper are back! *insert elmo fire emoji here* Honestly? I’m writing this fic mainly because I want a canon fluff fest with weird occurances and mild angst here and there. So if you’re reading this, god bless.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed loves! I gotta actually watch the finale… lol.


End file.
